children

RUN OVER
(Series as a whole)
In most homes of the United States of America, it is our own mothers and fathers (mostly mom, she=love) that care for us since we are born. They are our first idea of love; they are love. They nurture our little, totally dependent selves, with the greatest skill and the greatest love. They’re always looking after us, roughly spending a night without us by their side. They educate us, train us to be good, chastise the bad, grow us up and thus we are what we are because of them. To some people, that seems to be as much importance as stepping on dog shit, minimal. Once they grow age and categorize themselves as independent, they just go away from their parents. It could be our natural intuition and it definitively is our natural conduct. We thank them and just part our ways.
But what happens when it is them (our parents) that need our help? Yes, we may lend a hand, or offer some assistance, but very difficultly do we take it in our hands and dive head first to work and be the one, like our mothers where once, like our fathers cared for us. Especially when something serious (God forbid) happens to them, like Alzheimer disease. What happens then? Some few will take matters in their own hands, while even fewer will stay there as time passes on. Sure, they’ll visit occasionally on holidays and when they’re available. But that’s not the unconditional care and love we received. Our parents practically did everything for us, and gave us all we needed. It is impressive how some people get disgusted by their own parents. How some aren’t capable of cleaning their own mothers ass. Or worst, not being able to set away some time for the ones they owe the most. When does this apathy appear? Why are we alienated by our creators (the sole reason we live and are what we are? How can some just act anonymous, act as if it does not concern them, do practically nothing about it.



(Picture alone)
I visited this nursing home for the sole purpose of photographing the elderly for the contest. I had never visited one before, and the experience was just unlike any other. There were laughs and definitively sadness. But one thing was for sure, they were grateful of my visit, even while me being a total stranger. They smile they put when the nurses told them they had visit was highly emotive. Some of them just babbled like babies (because of Alzheimer disease). Others needed to be totally taken care of; and are totally dependent, like infants. Some entertained themselves with toys, while there were very few you could talk to. They’re alien to what they are, old, rather are like little kids. None where paying attention to the T.V. There was this one lady who was relatively healthy (she just had some problems with walking and some ulcers), and definitively in all her use of reason. She told me she had two sons, one here in the country and another in the States. She told me she was unhappy there and wanted to be home, she could not wait the day of her arrival back home where she would be with his son and in her own house. While speaking to her, she asked where did I live, when I answered, her response was of surprise as she told me she also ‘lives’ in the urbanization that I live. She asked me my street number and we happened to live about 6 streets away, as she told me her house number. She said it would be soon when she would be returning to her house, she just wasn’t unsure exactly when. I promised I would visit her when she got back. After my experience there and when I head back home, I was curious as to identify her house. After I got to the urbanization, went in search of her house. When I finally drove by her home I couldn’t believe what was happening. The house had a ‘For Sale’ sign in front. I just could not believe all I had seen in an ordinary day I just set out to take some pictures.



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